


Hurricane

by carxies



Series: Matsuhana [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, idk I dont really like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 17:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8022877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carxies/pseuds/carxies
Summary: The first thing they have in common isn’t something they would put on online dating website – the utter, complete and devastating disappointment in life.Or, Makki and Mattsun run away





	Hurricane

_“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.“_

 

 

 

Hanamaki picks up another rock and throws it ahead of himself, groaning.

 

Damn, damn, _damn it._

 

The words ring in his ears even now, when he’s sitting on the pavement and rolling the sleeves of his shirt up. When he’s done with his (messy) work, he pulls out the paper and pen hidden in the pocket of his fancy pants and scribbles three words on it, using the hard ground as an underlay. Just then a black, old American car stops few feet from him.

 

He grins and holds the paper above his head as the door open and a head full of black hair peeks out of the vehicle.

 

_Take me anywhere._

 

 “Well, your ride is here. Get in the back before my aunt sees me and starts crying.”

 

Hanamaki laughs and stands up, stretching out his limbs and crumpling the paper back into his pocket. He turns back to see the happy scene not far away and he’s sure of one thing – he needs to be gone already. He climbs on the backseat and his friend throws a plastic bag on him before he starts the engine again.

 

Hanamaki watches him – the perfect skin on the back of his neck, the freshly cut dark hair, the broad shoulders. He wants to run his hands all over them, only to know the feeling. Only to know if his skin is as warm as it looks like, if his hair is as soft as it looks like, if his shoulders are as muscular as they look like.

 

He grips his suit jacket instead.

 

“How was it?” the man asks while Hanamaki basically rips his suit jacket off.

“You know, it sucked,” he replies, “Also, it’s too fucking hot for this.”

 

Matsukawa chuckles. “Of course it did suck, I wasn’t there.”

 

Hanamaki sighs, almost unnoticeable, and shifts closer to the window, watching the view changing until they’re on the highway and his eyes are barely catching up.

 

He returns to his previous task and starts unbuttoning his shirt. He catches Matsukawa stealing few glances at him in the front mirror, but he doesn’t comment it. He takes the ridiculous piece of clothing off and hangs it on the hook above window at the same time his friend opens all the windows – and the shirt flies away.

 

“Mattsun! _The shirt_!” Hanamaki yells, loud enough for Matsukawa to hear him over the sounds of wind and the car.

 

“You hated the shirt anyway!” the black haired man shouts back and Hanamaki only leans back in the seat and laughs. He struggles with his pants but ends up successfully changing into loose t-shirt and skinny jeans. His fancy pants and shoes survive and are squeezed in the plastic bag. He stuffs his feeling in there as well.

 

“Okay, I’m coming to you.”

“Don’t do it! I will stop somewhere!”

 

He does it anyway – he’s never been one to listen to other people. He manages to climb over and settle in the passenger seat without harming himself or Matsukawa. The man beside him tilts his head back and laughs, still keeping his eyes on the road ahead of them. He wants to stroke his cheek, feel the little dimple under his fingers.

 

He puts on the seat belt instead.

 

“You’re crazy. You could have get us both killed.”

“ _Maybe_.”

 

He closes his eyes.

 

Hanamaki’s cheeks are attacked by the cold, harsh wind. He doesn’t mind though; his eyes are closed and he feels himself smiling – something his muscles are slowly getting used to again after weeks of drowning in his own sadness. The air purifies him, takes all the anger and all the worries accumulated in him, and blows them far away, somewhere where they can wait for Hanamaki – however, he doesn’t intend to return to pick them up. He lets himself to be driven in the opposite direction. He doesn’t care where the old American car stops; he doesn’t care where he will have to lay his head to rest.

 

Not as long as he’s with _him_.

 

He feels the sudden urge to scream. He is pretty sure that if he did it now; shouted everything he held deep down, there would be only one person to hear him on this empty highway– his driver, Matsukawa. The man who is like the calm before the storm; and who happens to start the hurricane inside Hanamaki, somehow. Hanamaki doesn’t understand – this man, this feeling, this situation. He kind of enjoys it.

 

The first thing they have in common isn’t something they would put on online dating website – _the utter, complete and devastating disappointment in life_. Matsukawa’s beloved father is now resting under the ground and Hanamaki just watched his first love marry someone else. So why not gather all the saved money, leave everything behind and run away?

 

_Exactly._

 

Perhaps Hanamaki should have listened to his parents months ago, should have gone to sleep and sort his thoughts out in the morning, talk about it, but Hanamaki has already given way too many second chances – and that should not be happening with _second_ chances.

 

He finally opens his eyes again, as to make sure that the man beside him is still there; dressed in worn out denim jacket with his tattooed hands on the steering wheel. Hanamaki’s fingers are itching to reach out and touch the dark ink, some older, some recent. He wants to trace every black line and every blue vein. He wants to slip his own fingers between the inked ones and be amazed by the contrast of their skins.

 

He clenches his fists instead.

 

They stop in city Hanamaki has never visited before. It’s two in the morning, but Hanamaki is more awake than ever, especially when his gaze falls on the moon-illuminated skin of his companion. He doesn’t understand why the man isn’t on every cover page already - mysterious and indescribably, ineffably beautiful.

 

“A walk?”

“Yeah.”

 

The city is asleep as they walk down the dark streets, close, _so close_ , yet never quite touching. It calms him down and drives his crazy at the same time, just like everything about Matsukawa. Hanamaki is always so relaxed yet tense around him and it’s new, it’s exciting. He breaks Hanamaki free, makes him do things he would never even think of; and still, he’s not changing Hanamaki, he isn’t forcing him into anything – he simply brings it all out of him. Wakes up the storm between his ribs, starts the hurricane.

 

They spot a fountain in front of them – and before either of them can say anything, they’re already running towards it and splashing water on each other like kids would do.

 

Hanamaki only gives up when his t-shirt is almost soaked through and he sits on the pavement, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a silver ring. He plays with it between his fingers and Matsukawa settles beside him, his hair wet and pushed back.

 

“We’re too young for this,” Matsukawa says finally. “I mean, for all this disappointment. I see all my friends having great jobs and being happy and getting married, and-“

“And then here I am,” Hanamaki finishes and the man beside him nods.

 

He sighs and lies down, gazing up at the clear sky. He _is_ disappointed. Except, he forgets it when he’s with Matsukawa.

 

“You know what?” he asks and jumps to his feet.

 

The man looks up at him with raised eyebrows and Hanamaki shows him the ring – the cursed, stupid ring he’s had for four years now. “I’m letting it go.”

 

And just like that, he throws the ring in the fountain, watching it sink down. Matsukawa gets up as well and he’s so close Hanamaki can almost feel the warmth of his hand beside his own. He just wants to kiss him, badly.

 

“That’s good, but um- You know you could just sell it and get some money out of it, right?”

“Don’t ruin the moment.”

“I’m just saying-“

“Don’t.”

 

Hanamaki knows that no other person can save him; that’s his own task, something only he can do. And the same goes for Matsukawa, no matter how much he dislikes the fact.

 

“I’m going to fish it out now,” Hanamaki murmurs after few minutes of silence.

 

Matsukawa laughs, his beautiful deep laugh, while Hanamaki steps in the cold water and searches for the stupid ring.

 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

“I am.”

 

Hanamaki turns to him, ready to say whatever sassy comment when Matsukawa catches him off guard and kisses him. It’s not exactly perfect – his legs are freezing and there’s water dripping down Matsukawa’s face, but honestly, Hanamaki couldn’t care less.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little, rushed something I wrote to fight my writer block while I should be writing the last chapter for my on going fic - if you find mistakes, I'm sorry  
> Don't do the dangerous car shit, kids
> 
> Maybe one day I will write this properly


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